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As we sat on the couch together
you and I
with legs outstretched and crossed
I was reminded of stories
that shaped my past
and realized
I was more
than myself

Copyright © Catherine Young, 2007.

The Homeless

This I wrote after leaving a Leafs game:

We pulsate forward
moving around him
as waves break against
a rocky shore
separating briefly
only to rejoin once past
the interrupter of our flow
averting our eyes from
the failure of our
society
pretending we have missed
the long, unkempt hair
the outstretched hands
the eyes that tell
of more misery and woe
than one life should hold
as waves
we roll on
cresting
foaming
but never stopping
- never ebbing
our relentless and guiltless flow

Copyright © Catherine Young, 2007.

In The Grind

I wrote this when I was studying at the University of Guelph. We were called 'The Gryphons." (What the hell is a gryphon anyway? It's what just kicked your ass!) I always found that saying humourous, because it wasn't based on actual fact, as I rarely went to a sports event that Guelph won.....but I digress. There was a great between class hangout on the campus called The Grind. It changed names my last year there to something else - I can't remember what it was, because everyone just kept calling the place The Grind anyway. I miss it. Oh well - here's the poem.

In The Grind

i watched you today
on the couch frowning
searching and reading

and marking with your
highlighter everything
that seemed important
to you

was there in that book
and you with that
unhappy look didn't

even notice when he
spilled some of his lunch
into your lap

Copyright © Catherine Young, 2007.

Butterfly

The world is a theatre for you
- you hurried and flurried beauty
ascending and descending to
accompany the summer breeze
and perhaps allowing those
who so admire you
to get close enough
to imagine themselves free
- as invinsible as your
delicate wings and wanderings.

Copyright © Catherine Young, 2007

Nostalgia

nostalgia occurs when
two old friends
with whom you once
finger painted
and created dramatic
productions about
mimes and pirates
with
are now opening
the candle holders
you bought them
for their
bridal shower

Copyright © Catherine Young, 2007.

Montreal

A dome protrudes above the horizon
- a refuge for thousands
daily, it houses weeps and cries and pleas
for aid
for hope
for redemption
Atop the rocky cliff
it is a beacon
for those in need
like you
like me
like everyone
The basillica is calling.

Copyright © Catherine Young, 2007.

Those damn cynical geese!

Sometimes I'm cynical (aren't we all...?)...maybe. That being said, here's a poem I wrote a while ago.

Geese

In lines they follow
- uniform in motion
- struggling for rank
- fighting to lead the others.
The fastest, strongest, most powerful reign
and control the weakest
- those who follow.
Geese -
reflections of humanity in the sky.

Copyright Catherine Young, 2007.

Memories of Autumn

The remaining leaves
covering the oaks and maples
are my memories of you -
hanging precariously,
waiting to fall,
(and to die).
They scatter and flake
like time, and
I love the way they sound -
crunching and rustling
with each step I take
(farther away from you).
A crimson beauty glides through the air,
landing at my feet.
The colours are beautiful
I am beautiful
(I finally realize)
A hundred million voices in my head
whisper goodbye.

Copyright © Catherine Young, 2007.